A Heart's Longing
by Caitlin of The Shire
Summary: a longing in the heart that any true tolkien fan shares


I'm standing on a hill, by a tall tree with roots that look as if they could spread for miles, looking down at the majestic and fantastic realm below. The road goes ever on, from where I stand, to the end where one home stays, one historic, wonderful home. I look down at my feet, no shoes, rather large, but lets not get into my personal problems. I look up at the tree I am standing beside. It looks like it could be a thousand feet tall and a thousand years old, but its not. I am but only a few feet tall, that has a little influence. I look down at my feet again, my slightly hairy feet, and then to the road, the well known road that goes for miles and miles, if it goes for a step. I sigh quietly and remember all the adventures that I had been through. I remember the wilderness, filled with magic and danger. I remember the great castles protected by the raging rivers, if not by wizardry of that race. I remember getting into a few pinches, but always getting out of them again. It was hard to stay in one, if you have friends like mine. I remember the times that just thinking about them makes me want to laugh, and I remember the times that thinking about them might put a tear or two in my eye. I remember the monstrous creatures that follow me, want me, only as their dinner, or maybe for something to kill to sharpen their skills. I would not let myself die, I think to myself, as I stair down the road that leads to home. I also remember the most horrifying race of creatures that ever wander this realm, this realm of mine. All mine. I can go anywhere, no one can stop his short little girl. I remember the pain that I have every time I looked at any of those who follow me, to know that they are in the same danger as I. I remember hoping, praying, that the adventure was over, then wishing for another to begin. I want to stay in this place forever, I belong in this world. I want to stay here, with its magical forests and dangerous seas, with the immortal Elvens, even the monstrosity of the demon which the Dwarves have woken. I want to stay where I am forever, with the Wizards and most especially, the Hobbits. I never want to leave. I sigh again, and walk down my path. It is a rather steep hill, I think to myself. But it is home, no matter how steep it is. I look to my left, my very best friend in all the worlds is standing beside me. And he will be there forever, as long as I may draw breath under this sun, or any for that matter. I smiles at him as he puts his arm around me. I look back down at the road, and try to remember al the places this road has brought me, and all the feelings felt here, coming home or leaving again. I look up and around me, at the dream- like meadows that is this place. I now remember one time, when me and my friend were wee Hobbits, before our tweens. I found a newt in the grass, picked it up, and, of course, ran right over to him with it. He, the sissy boy that he was, was afraid of it. He said that he would chase me down and pin to the ground if I did not let it go. I challenged him, and well, he had won. I let a smile come to my lips, and realized that he was smiling too. I believe that he had remembered what I was thinking of that day, that perfect day. We always held each other close, we never wanted to be apart. We held each other as we are holding each other now. I look up again, and realize that I was thinking about this the whole time until now, now as we arrive at home.  
  
"We're home," he whispered to me as we both set our sights upon Bag End of The Shire. Yes, we are home. This is my home. This will always be my home...  
  
"Caitlin?" I heard somebody call out my name. I still stared out into the clouds, then to my best friend, who...who wasn't there!  
  
"Caitlin!" I heard again. All of a sudden I saw blue skies, that were not of The Shire's. And I saw a window, with a poster above it and a file cabinet below.  
  
"Caitlin!!" This time it was louder. I turned my head, and saw my English teacher sitting at her desk. Then I saw all my classmates looking at me, me sitting in my desk, starring into the clouds.  
  
"What?" I asked the teacher.  
  
"What is the answer to number twelve?"  
  
I looked down at my paper, and let another slight smile come to my lips. I looked up again and said, "The subject is The Shire, the verb is is, and the predicate nominative is home."  
  
I let the smile fade as the same old emptiness filled me again. My heart's longing returned to me, along with the pain of never being able to fulfill it. Its what I felt every single day. To know that I could never walk on the road of Bag Shot Row, never to boat the Brandywine, never to see an Elf, never to see the Mines, nor the Dwarves, or Moria; never to see what I wished to see with all my heart and more than all my soul. And it hurt, day in and day out, it hurt. 


End file.
